


My Empire of Dirt

by AislingSiobhan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels, Language, M/M, lying, using people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislingSiobhan/pseuds/AislingSiobhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Loki/Tony] Loki came to Earth sooner than anyone knew. Except for Tony, who met him and fucked him and loved him in that order, and then later shot at him in Stuttgart; because apparently his lover was a supervillian and everybody knew it, but him. (Pre- and post-Avengers.  Language. AU. FrostIron. Loki warnings. Because he’s kind of a dick. Using people. Lying. Feels. Eventual happy ending. Oceans of feels. Smut.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Empire of Dirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disarmed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmed/gifts).



Ok, here is the new FrostIron. There are many, many others I need to work on. But first, I’m going to read “Who knew?” and then I’m going to sleep… I hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think!

* * * 

**“My Empire of Dirt”**

**Disclaimer:** The Avengers, Tony, Loki, etc belong to Marvel, Stan Lee, et co. I make no money from this and own nothing, don’t sue.  
 **Summary:** [Loki/Tony] Loki came to Earth sooner than anyone knew. Except for Tony, who met him and fucked him and loved him in that order, and then later shot at him in Stuttgart; because apparently his lover was a supervillian and everybody knew it, but him.  
 **Warnings:** Slash. Loki/Tony. Pre- and post-Avengers. Language. AU. FrostIron. Loki warnings. Because he’s kind of a dick. Using people. Lying. Feels. Eventual happy ending. Loki feels. Tony feels. Oceans of feels. Smut.  
 **Rating:** NC-17.  
 **A/N:** Based on (http://frost-iron.tumblr.com/post/40502691000/ohmylaniaison-you-might-as-well-go-in-stark). When I saw it, I immediately thought of this. And then I couldn’t help myself.  
 **Title** : Taken from Johnny Cash’s “Hurt”. 

_XXX_

Never hurt people who love you a lot, because they won't hurt you back. But they'll probably have no choice but to leave you forever -- _Ryan Ferreras_.  
Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation -- _Kahlil Gibran_.

 _XXX_

**Words:** 10,658  
 **Chapter 1**  
It wasn’t like his usual form of teleportation. He didn’t just close his eyes and think of somewhere new and go there. There was no simple step forward, from this place to the next place. So unlike stepping through a doorway; over a threshold: into a new world. No. This was like the wardrobe to Narnia, but not, for though Loki found himself thrown into a whole new world, a different environment, surrounded by enemies, walking through the wardrobe had been simple and easy and quick. When Loki fell, he fell for eons. There was nothing to him but falling and _pain_ , nothing as easy as one step forward, and certainly nothing so welcome as death. 

When he landed there was none of the ice of Jötunheimr, none of Asgard’s gold or Midgard’s concrete. He landed in a world wholly unknown to him and that frightened him. He ached all over and when a voice called out to him from the darkness, welcoming him and manipulating him, he was too tired to argue, too _tired_ to fight it, and the Tesseract devoured him whole. 

_XXX_  
 **YOU CAN**  
 _XXX_

The Tesseract called to him months later, or years later, or weeks; Loki couldn’t be sure. He had fallen for so long that time had become skewered and his mind could not be trusted to tell the difference anymore between what he knew to be truth and what little he believed of Thanos’ words. The Other had been the one to greet him after his first fall, welcoming him with the sceptre in his hands, a shard of the Tesseract glowing at the very tip of the spear, bright and blue and deadly and Loki’s eyes had been fixed upon it from the moment she spoke to him. 

He had accepted the spear, accepted their hospitality, and closed his eyes and bit his tongue during the long hours when the Chitauri passed their time with him. Weakened by his fall, he was easy pickings, and he had learnt early on that authority would not protect him: Asgard’s King – his supposed father – had never stopped Thor’s friends from bullying him, so he knew better than to complain to Thanos about his army’s treatment of him. He could tolerate the bruises and bites and broken bones. None sought to take things further, to injure his person more intimately, and so Loki dealt with it, put up with it, until he was strong enough to defend himself, until the Tesseract had shown him enough to use her to defend himself with. 

When she called to him later, he found himself falling once more, through fire and water, through darkness. And when he landed, the Tesseract whispered inside of his mind: “mingle with the mortals; learn their ways and their weaknesses. Once you have learnt all you need to know to destroy them call forth your army and lay them all to waste in _my_ name.” 

Thanos had spoken of finding the Tesseract and using it to do his bidding, but Loki had never corrected him, never told him the truth of what the Tesseract whispered to him. So, he fell to Earth, they thought to fight for Thanos, but really it was to find her and free her because she had shown him so much and he owed her so much more than he could repay. 

But he did not find her when he fell, not right away at least. Instead, he landed in New York, in a city filled with skyscrapers and humans and noise. Loki cringed, drawing back from the crowds that shuffled around him, knocking him with shoulders and elbows as he hurried to press his back to a wall, to defend himself from this unknown. No one paid him any mind; too busy going about their business, and Loki eventually relaxed enough to slip into the crowd. He used it as a river, his feet the boat that ferried him down the streets, struggling against the current that was the multitude, to the foot of the tallest tower within seeing distance, not yet complete, no lights burned within and the metal name on its side was dull and missing the ‘R’ in ‘STARK’. 

“Whose is this tower?” Loki asked himself, wondering. If this had been Asgard, he would have assumed a King lived here, for it was the biggest building, the tallest and most imposing. It would look magnificent, all lit up, he thought, fit for a king. But this was Midgard, and king’s here had no real power, so negotiating with one, or overthrowing one, or bending one’s mind to his will would get him no closer to the Tesseract that he was now. So Loki turned his back to the tower, determined to find someone important enough to help him in his search for the Tesseract, but a mortal had stopped right behind him, watching him slack-jawed, and was blocking his path. 

“Yes?” Loki questioned, arching an eyebrow at the man. 

“You serious?” The man asked him. He was a little pudgy, with red cheeks and wide set eyes, and he wore a coat made of strange yellow material that came almost to his knees and a flat yellow crown of some sort. On the coat was a badge, which read: Construction Overseer. Around his throat he wore a necklace made of fabric, and another badge, this one with a picture of the man on it and the Stark Industries logo. “Uh are you not from around here?” The man laughed, but made his way around Loki, heading for the tower. “Everyone knows this is Anthony Stark’s tower.”

“Who is Anthony Stark?” Loki wondered aloud once the man had entered the building. Other mortals glanced at him as they passed, some chuckled at the question and some shot him looks that he used to gift Thor with when the other had done something particularly stupid. From their reactions, Loki figured that this Stark must have been important or dangerous, or a combination of both and he revised his earlier opinion. Anthony Stark would be very useful to him, if only Loki could find him.

_XXX_  
 **HAVE IT ALL**  
 _XXX_

It turned out not to be too difficult to find Anthony Stark. It seemed that everywhere Loki looked there was an article about the man, or a news report, or an interview being conducted. There was even a TV show playing in the hotel lobby where Loki eventually met the mortal that depicted a little red metal man shooting men with guns with nothing but his metal hands. Stark was shirtless on the front of GQ magazine, completely naked in some controversial women’s magazine, talking about clean energy in the New York Times, and Google offered more than enough examples of Stark’s business successes of late. 

But Loki considered none of that when he first saw the mortal. In fact, Loki didn’t even know it was him until someone shouted his name across the lobby. His eyes were drawn to the man, a little shorter than average but dressed in a well cut suit with his hair stylishly arranged, and Loki wanted to scoff and turn away from the mortal everyone else seemed to be clamouring over, because he was only a mortal. No mortal was worthy of his attention after all, he was here to subjugate them all, not admire them (though admittedly some of this Stark fellow’s exploits were rather impressive). But then Loki’s eyes fell first on the strange circle of light that shone out through the white shirt the mortal wore, blue and bright and hypnotic, and after he glanced up and caught brown eyes and a raised eyebrow. Pink lips parted and then curved up into a smile before they puckered and the mortal blew him a kiss as he walked right by Loki, God of Mischief, and Loki was too stunned by the action to take offense. 

“Mr Stark! Mr Stark, how close are you to completing Stark Tower and the clean energy project?” Someone called from the crowd that had flocked around the man as soon as he left the staircase behind for the lobby. 

Loki’s head snapped up again, ignoring the fact that the mortal was still watching and had probably taken his action for interest in or acceptance of his flirtation. Loki glanced instead around at the people who were waiting with bated breath for an answer. There were reporters most noticeably, but some of the people at the door carried signs damning Stark Industries and claiming that “Stark Sucked”, but they waited silently nonetheless for an answer. When none was forthcoming, Loki turned his attentions away from the meaningless drivel Stark spewed to distract the reporter from his task and instead he glanced the man up and down. 

There was nothing magnificent about him, nothing that would have caught Loki’s eye if they had passed each other on the street. His tower was ostentatious, his mental brilliance from what Loki had read was vast and attractive, but the man himself appeared to be nothing special. He was human, and Loki did not understand why those other humans flocked to him, hanging from his arms or throwing him coy smiles and non-subtle glances. Nor did he understand why his own eyes refused to tear themselves away as Anthony Stark finally left the building. Loki watched him leave, and he stood to get closer to the window so that he could see Stark slip inside of a long dark car, which disappeared soon after into the city. 

Loki managed to acquire himself a room in the hotel, the tip of his sceptre pressed against the skin over the receptionist’s heart as her eyes flashed blue. She happily handed him the keys to the second largest room they had available, Stark himself having rented the largest for his CEO as well as the entire top floor for himself, but the room she showed him to was adequate enough, so he let her leave with her life. She turned at the doorway, curious despite herself about his interest in Mr Stark’s coming and goings, for Loki had asked numerous questions in the elevator ride up to the room, and she smiled as she told him, “Mr Stark will be at the Plaza tonight. They’re having a party to celebrate the tower. It’s supposed to open up in another three months.”

“Where is this Plaza you speak of?” Once she told him the address, Loki slammed the door in her face. He didn’t sleep, though he felt bone weary all of a sudden, because when he closed his eyes there was nothing but blue against his eyelids and her voice in his mind reminding him, always, of his purpose. The Other was there too, whispering cruelties in his ear, hands on Loki’s jaw and fingers skimming around to the back of his neck and making his skin crawl. 

So he forced himself to keep his eyes open, as he sought out a computer and someone to work it for him again; more slaves to his will and his might, all of their eyes glowing blue by the time he was done with them. They brought him food and drink and a suit that Loki thought would suit him well and they helped him put it on, fixing his collar and straightening his tie and scarf, a strange shade of brown circles on beige with a stripe of green down the centre, but he liked it very much. One called him a taxi and another held the door open for him, and none of the guests thought to ask why Loki was getting preferential treatment, because by the time Loki left to find Stark at the Plaza, all those who had not been wearing S.I. badges on their chests or plastic cards around their necks fell beneath the power of the Tesseract, just like Loki had. 

_XXX_  
 **MY EMPIRE**  
 _XXX_

He found Stark at the same time as he found the alcohol. People had attempted to introduce themselves to the handsome man in the expensive suit, or to shake his hand because the way he treated other people gave them the impression that he was important enough to get away with it, but Loki ignored them all. He brushed off their touches and blocked out their words, and his eyes travelled the breadth of the room in search of Anthony Stark. 

It was another hotel, larger than the one that Loki had been in earlier, but further away from Stark Tower as well, less convenient for the owner of the partly-constructed tower. The lobby was filled with people, some lining the walls and other lining the bar, but the majority stood around in groups of three or four and cast judgements on those that stood alone. Loki walked passed them all, slowly and calmly, ignoring the beating of his heart which suddenly sped up when he caught sight of his goal. Anthony was leaning against the bar, a drink in one hand and the other resting lightly on the curve of some woman’s waist. 

She was pretty, Loki supposed, in a Midgardian way. Small, and slim, but taller than Stark, with long red hair and her lips were full and curved as she glanced at the genius, laughing softly at something he had said. Loki’s eyes narrowed, and he half considered changing forms, to better entice the man away from this woman as a woman, but he reminded himself that Stark had flirted with _him_ , not the other way around, so he must be interested. With such a man as this, how better to enthral him? 

Loki had seen it often on Asgard, delegates from other worlds, other territories, all falling at the feet of his female form, salivating with need and hunger, but glancing warily at Thor in comparison, too intimidated by the first Prince to become comfortable enough to spill all of their closely guarded secrets. But with Loki, oh with Loki, they let everything fall away until he was able to read their intents upon their faces and the true meaning of their words with the press of his mouth and taste their falsehoods in the salt of the sweat on their skin. Stark would be no different, Loki could tell. Stark would lay with him like this, no disguises and no lies, and when Loki rose to claim the planet in her name, Stark would see him and know that he had a chance to stop him and hadn’t, had damned himself and his world with his vices. 

It didn’t take much to catch Anthony’s attentions. Loki leant against the bar beside the two mortals, and clicked his fingers at the man mixing drinks behind the counter. 

“That’s not how it’s done,” Stark told him, after the bartender glanced up at Loki and away again with a scowl. “Like this!” Stark pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and waved it over the bar, and instead of clicking his fingers he called, “another for me and my friend and whatever this guy is having.” 

“Gratitude,” Loki said, in lieu of actually thanking him. The bartender didn’t ask Loki for his order, instead placing another of whatever Stark was drinking down in front of him. “Friendly,” Loki scoffed, arching an eyebrow at the man’s retreating back. He fished for something to say, anything at all, when Tony turned his back and carried on talking to the woman. He could not bed the man, unravel him piece by piece and find out all he needed to know to secure his victory, if he couldn’t keep Stark’s attention for more than a minute. 

“I am Loki,” he murmured after a moment, keeping his eyelids lowered so he could look up demurely when Stark finally turned back to him. He batted his eyes and bit his bottom lip and tried to look alluring. 

Stark looked him up and down, before chuckling. Admittedly, that wasn’t a reaction that Loki was used to receiving from future conquests and his face twisted into a scowl immediately. “You’re the guy from the Four Seasons,” Stark said, unfazed by the dirty look. “I recognize that scowl.” 

“Yes, well,” Loki griped, looking flushed. This wasn’t going at all the way he had planned for it to, and yet, he found himself more intrigued by this man who had yet to throw himself at the feet of a God and beg for attention. “That is what happens when you bestow your flirtations on those who are unwilling.”

“And are you unwilling?” Stark asked, eyebrow rising. He moved away from the redheaded woman, sliding towards Loki, until one arm was around his waist, palm on the bar, pinning him in place. The other hand lifted his glass and Loki watched Tony’s throat as he swallowed, swallowing himself at the flare of need that suddenly burned in his belly. 

This was the point in which he lied, pretended he was interested so that he could get what he wanted. The Tesseract spoke in his mind, reminding him of his place, his goal, his need to squeeze Stark of all of the information he held. But Loki thought of none of that, and he didn’t lie, when he said, “Most certainly not.”

Lips were suddenly upon his, and the woman was slipping away from them with her drink; Tony was pressing him back into the bar, bent back awkward and uncomfortable and Loki was moaning into his mouth all the same. A hand entangled fingers with his and pulled, and Loki allowed himself to be led from the lobby and up the nearest staircase. They kissed, Tony’s back pressed against a railing, and then again later with Loki leaning against a fire escape door to keep his knees from buckling. With every flight they passed, they had to stop, hands fumbling with clothing to reach skin beneath and mouths wet and wanting and they clung to each other, hips rutting desperately, and it had been so long since he had lost himself to pleasure, since he had bedded someone solely for the enjoyment of it, that Loki was lost to sensation. He was nerves and synapses and need. He cared not for the Tesseract in this moment, and he thought nothing of Thanos or the Other or of conquering Midgard. 

Instead, he concerned himself with Stark opening the door of a hotel room and pushing him inside. He focused on Tony’s bare chest, the strange circle of metal and light that tasted of coconuts when Loki kissed it, ignoring the way Tony tensed at that particular touch. He stripped himself quickly and efficiently, allowing his clothes to fall haphazardly to the floor, and he stepped out of his pants, his shoes probably having been kicked off back in the hallway for all he could recall. His mind was a haze of desire and burning, and he was hot all over, sweaty and shaking, and on _fire_ , but Tony’s kisses cooled him and Tony’s hands on his skin stopped the burning for a moment and Loki pressed himself closer, naked groin against the fabric of Stark’s pants and he ground them together, desperately seeking more friction. 

Tony’s hand gripped his cock and Loki’s head fell back with a moan. With each slow stroke, Tony pushed Loki back a step at a time, until the God fell back onto the bed, Tony’s hand falling away from him so that he could undo his own trousers. He pushed them down over his hips, exposing his cock, thick and hard and Loki licked his lips at the sight of it. 

“Leave them on,” he ordered when Tony moved to push his trousers down the rest of the way. Pale legs spread in invitation, fingers probing at his own hole, one then two before pulling out and tugging the cheeks of his arse apart. Tony was just drunk enough to think nothing of it, to not bother questioning the minimal preparation, and Loki slicked himself with magic, wanting too much to wait any longer. Manual preparation took too long and he was so close already. He needed it, and he would have what he wanted, by the Norns, and he would have it now. 

“Have me,” he whispered, arching his back to display himself better. Stark licked his lips, before digging his wallet out of his pocket and thumbing through it for a condom. “Leave it,” Loki ordered again, a scowl settling firmly on his mouth until Tony crawled onto the bed and leant down to kiss it off. He dropped his wallet though, condom and all, and took himself in hand, gasping loudly as one of Loki’s hands drifted over to rub furiously at the head of his prick. “Have me now.”

“Your wish,” Tony murmured, one hand positioning his cock at Loki’s entrance, while the other grabbed his thigh and shoved upwards, bending him out so that Tony could watch himself sink inside of the other man even as he kneeled over him to steal his mouth again. “My command,” he muttered more to himself than Loki, once their kiss had ended and Loki had bottomed out. The other man was writhing beneath him, uncommonly slick considering Tony hadn’t seen him use any lube, but he clung to his cock like a second skin and all thought of logic had fled his mind the first time Loki thrust back against him, pulling off of his cock and impaling himself back on. Sense came back to Tony slowly, but first came instinct. 

Muscle memory took control, and he arched towards his partner, pulling back and pushing forward, over and over, until he found the right angle to hit Loki’s prostate. With a strangled scream Loki took his hands off of his arse, arms rising to cling to Tony’s shoulders, nails biting into flesh as the man fucked him roughly. His body ached for more, his insides burned with desire and his heart beat frantically, and every time he closed his eyes blue flashed behind his eyelids, but it wasn’t the blue of the Tesseract, but rather the blue that glowed in Stark’s chest, and Loki savoured the change, the peace it brought. He came with a silent scream, mouth hanging open wide and Tony pushed two fingers in, wetting them, fucking Loki’s mouth with them as he came himself, panting and grunting into the willing body beneath him that convulsed around his cock, milking him dry. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, with Tony panting over him and Loki glancing up with eyes green and wide. His stomach was sticky from his own seed, and Tony’s leaked from him when the man finally pulled out. 

The human lay beside him, on his side so that he could still see Loki, and the God feeling smug with the evidence of his lover’s pleasure within him, pressed two fingers back inside of himself, lifting a leg to make sure Stark could see him. When he pulled them out again, he pushed them passed his lips, tongue wrapping around them, spreading the flavour of the mortal across every taste bud until he moaned, wanton and slutty and Tony’s pupils flared with lust again. 

They fucked again, Loki sitting in Tony’s lap with the zipper of his trousers cutting a strip off of his arse with every motion. Little droplets of blood stained the fabric and Loki’s come painted Tony’s chest this time as he threw his head back and wailed, chest heaving and hips stuttering, but he managed to force himself to continue to ride the man until Tony’s fingers dug trenches into his sides, flesh parting under the force of his nails and he arched up with enough force to almost unseat him. Loki grabbed Tony’s shoulders, hanging on as the man flipped them over, fucked into him twice more hard enough to make him hurt and Loki groaned at the feeling, loving the desire he stoked inside of the human and when they were done and Tony’s seed was cooling inside of him once more, Loki smiled as he lifted his feet to catch the top of Tony’s trousers, toeing them down and off of his lover at last. 

The two men lay silently, side by side, and Loki thought of what he could say, what he could ask, and how he would start his interrogation. 

But Tony spoke first. “You want a bath?” 

Loki, still not having gotten what he came for, agreed. 

They bathed together, and Loki allowed himself to lie back between the v of Stark’s spread thighs and feel the cold metal of the arc reactor digging into his flesh as he pushed back and Stark pushed closer and a cock rubbed against the base of his spine. Fingers twisted around the head of his own and before Loki could consider refusing, stopping and demanding his answers, or summoning his sceptre to his hand and _taking_ what he wanted, he was out of the tub, mouth against Stark’s and arms around his neck. He tried to jump up, to wrap his legs around Stark’s waist, to offer himself again, but instead found himself pushed back and away, turned and bent forward, over the edge of the tub. Anthony fucked him again, like that, from behind, his cock buried deep inside of Loki’s body, and Loki’s hands slipping and clawing desperately against the tiles of the wall as his face got closer and closer to the tepid bath water the harder Tony fucked him. When the water drained, Loki kept his hands on the plastic bath mat, fingers curling around the fabric and the heels of his palms digging into the ceramic of the tub base as each thrust of Tony’s hips curled his toes and made his knees and elbows tremble, had his thighs slapping into the side of the tub, threatening to knock him into it. 

Later, after towelling dry in awkward silence, Tony raided the mini bar, offering Loki his choice of drink to finish off the night. “You can stay, if you want,” Tony offered nonchalantly, throwing himself across the bed to reach the remote. The TV flickered on, and Loki jumped from the sudden noise. He bit his lip to keep from exclaiming, though his eyes widened at the real life people who walked around the screen of the box. He had seen cartoons while he researched Anthony Stark, but he had not seen this, or anything like this, and his first thought was sorcery, but no, Stark was an engineer, an inventor; perhaps this was simply another design of his? 

“You like this show?” Stark asked, misinterpreting his sudden interest. “It’s not bad, but not half as gory as you’d expect vampire shows to be. That changes in the later series’ though. Lots of people die, shit gets fucked up, there are a handful of werewolf hybrids, blah blah blah, you know, anything to get the ratings up.” 

Loki glanced at him, one eyebrow climbing higher on his face, and that seemed to be his default expression, distain and incredulity. Tony snorted, handing out the bottle of bourbon like a parle and Loki took it, sipping straight from the bottle and coughing as it burned his throat unexpectedly. He almost slipped up and muttered that drink on Asgard was less bitter, less coarse, but he held his tongue at the last second, quirking his lips instead as he crawled towards Tony on his knees, a hand clutching the bottle and the other stroking over his own nipples. Anthony was watching him with wide eyes, lying flat on his back with his hands folded above and behind his head. 

He made a tempting picture, but Loki had never really been one to take another. He much preferred them to think themselves in charge, to make them work for their pleasure while he took and took and took from them in turn, until they were done and he could throw them out, acting coy and embarrassed, enjoying watching them trip over themselves to make it up to him, to promise him the world and all of their secrets if only they wouldn’t tell Thor they had defiled the younger Prince. But Tony didn’t know that about him, didn’t know him at all, and he didn’t care much for anything other than pulling Loki down on top of him with a hand on the back of the God’s neck. 

Loki brushed their lips together, soft and teasing and he pulled back with a smile on his face and the bottle to Tony’s lips, which spilled more of it than they swallowed but accepted greedily nonetheless. “So tell me,” Loki whispered, fingers running rings around the arc reactor curiously, “what is so important about your tower? Everyone is talking about it, but I think it looks just like every other monstrosity in this city.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows furrowed. Loki thought he looked rather fetching with the adorably confused frown crossing his face, just a hint of offense lurking beneath the expression along with anger and injured pride. Nails dug into his sides again, prodding at the slowly healing furrows Tony had left there early, half healed but the man had been too lost in his lust to notice how deeply he had cut, how much more injured Loki should still be. 

“It’s the first self-sustaining energy source in the world, and I’m running my tower with it and building my tower to house it. Like a circuit board, all of the parts together and touching, to make it work. It’s a work of genius! No one else has one, no one else could have even thought to create one, but I did. I did it.” And as Loki knew he would, post-coitus and satisfied, pride stung by his question, Anthony Stark bragged. 

He told Loki all he needed to know, and it was when Tony compared the tower’s source to the glow of blue in his chest that Loki made his decision. It did not matter what happened or when, the invasion would come, and Loki would lead it from the top of Stark Tower, because Loki had already compared the arc reactor to the Tesseract, to the shard in his sceptre. If the tower was similar, the mortal equivalent of his alien technology, then it was only fitting that it would be Loki’s too. Loki would take it and twist it and use it, and he’d make Stark Tower accept his army, bend before his will, and the Tesseract and Anthony would help him do it. 

_XXX_  
 **I WILL**  
 _XXX_

Loki teleported back to the Four Seasons once Stark had fallen asleep. They had spoken first of SHIELD, who had rang Stark’s mobile just as they were beginning round four. Annoyed at being interrupted, and frustrated, Tony raved about them, and Loki soaked it all up like a sponge, the relevant and irrelevant all at once, because one never knew what might become useful information in the future. 

He offered Tony a drink from the bottle, and then another bottle once the bourbon was all gone, and for every mouthful Loki took Tony took three and Loki flirted and teased and distracted Tony with his mouth every time the man questioned him: “are you trying to get me drunk, Loks? Er, drunker.” Loki would respond with a kiss or a lick of his tongue down the column of Tony’s neck or quick fingers tugging at his nipples, and Tony would take the drink, take his pleasure and answer the next question Loki had. 

Tony woke alone, which wasn’t a usual experience. Usually, he was the one throwing people out, or sneaking out on them, not the one lying in a cold bed with semen stained sheets. Strangely though, there was a sheet of paper beside his head, ripped out of the room service menu, and Loki had scratched out certain words and letters with his nail, until the remaining characters spelt an address and a phone number. It was the most original ‘here’s-my-number-on-a-napkin’ Tony had ever gotten and he rolled it up and tucked it into his jacket pocket for safe keeping once he was cleaned up and dressed again. 

The address turned out to be the Four Seasons and the number their phone number along with the extension code for Loki’s room. Tony waited the mandatory three days to see if Loki would come looking for him, and while he had seen the taller man glancing at him any time they passed each other in the lobby or the hallway, and the first night after their tryst when Loki had seen Tony escorting a woman out of his hotel room (which might have been why Loki never came up himself), but they never spoke. Half a bottle of vodka later and Tony felt brave enough to seek out the first person in a very long time to have caught and kept his attention. He knocked on the door and rather than saying hello or anything else so mundane when the door swung open, Tony reached for the lapels of Loki’s jacket and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. 

Loki kissed back, eyes wide with surprise; though he knew it was Stark at the door, his wards had told him as much, he hadn’t been expecting to be assaulted straight away. He had figured like the last time he would have to at least show that he was interested. His hands came up to tangle in Tony’s hair, brushing lightly over the man’s ears, but before he could lose himself the way he had three nights ago, blue flashed behind his eyelids the moment they slipped closed and Loki dragged himself back into wakefulness, away from Tony and Tony’s poisonous, addictive touch. He panted, backing into the room with one hand on the doorframe and the other in front of him to ward Stark off. 

“Despite the impression I gave before I am not that sort of man.” He was, he really was, especially when the means justified the end, but in this case he had gotten from Tony what he came for. The only thing remaining was access to Stark Tower, but as Iron Man Stark would be busy defending the city and Loki could force his way inside. 

“Well that’s why I’ve booked us a table at the Olive Garden.”1 The mortal smiled at him, slow and warm and Loki felt his resistance crumble. What could it hurt, he asked himself, to go for dinner? To have a companion? The man would die in the invasion or he would bow down before Loki and the Tesseract, and Loki knew that, understood that. He accepted that this couldn’t be forever and he had no intention of letting his interest grow so much that it could be mistaken for affection or love of all things, but friendship was something that Loki had never really had before. Sexual attention yes and people who wanted something yes, but Loki had already given Tony what he wanted and yet the man had come back, was asking him on a date. 

Loki said yes. 

The Other screamed in his mind, reminding him of the price of failure, as Loki took Tony’s hand, allowing the man to guide it to the curve of his arm, and they left the hotel together. Tony wore a suit and Loki nothing quite so fancy, just his slacks and a jumper, and on the way to the restaurant Loki promised himself mentally that no matter what happened or what came of this acquaintanceship nothing would get in his way. 

Nothing would defeat him. 

_XXX_  
 **LET YOU DOWN**  
 _XXX_

They spent three months together, Loki spending more nights in Tony’s set of rooms than in his own, figuring that if Tony was paying for his (unlike Loki’s stolen room) they could at least put it to use. Loki kept to himself some days, when Anthony was being interviewed or fitting pieces of his tower together by hand because even though he had engineers and construction workers he didn’t trust them to do the private parts of his tower, his labs, his living quarters, and so they could only build until a certain level and then it was all down to Anthony Stark and Iron Man to complete it. Loki left him be during those times, choosing instead to seek out more information about SHIELD. He searched through Tony’s phone one day when it was forgotten by the man, discarded on the counter beside a half-finished mug of coffee and his tie, digging with the help of something called Jarvis into specs for the Helicarrier, and he committed them to memory figuring it could come in handy at some point, before he got a password wrong and the phone shut itself off. Instead of giving up, he searched the internet, and the more he found the closer he was to achieving his goal. 

All that remained was for the Tesseract to call him forth once more, to pull him through the darkness until he was by her side, and he waited, fingers twitching against Tony’s arc reactor every night after they had finished fucking for it to happen. With every day that he closed his eyes and the flash of blue behind them got brighter and brighter, Loki knew the hour was inching closer; it was almost time to wage war on Midgard. And it was on the day that Tony first whispered, “I love you,” that the Tesseract called him to arms. 

Loki had been shocked by the confession; because of Tony’s friends that he had met all had given him the impression that Tony would never say it, ever. It had taken him a year to say it to Pepper Potts and they had broken up shortly afterwards, though they remained friends, and it was her who had kept Anthony company at the bar the first night Loki slept with him. 

Loki hadn’t known what to say, what to do to avoid hurting his lover’s feelings, and his mouth had opened and “I love you too” had tumbled out. It was like a punch to the stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs, and his throat tightened when Tony beamed at him because the words had been truth even though he hadn’t known it until they were spoken, but it was too late now. Too late to take them back and too late to leave, too late to beg for forgiveness or bask in Tony’s love for one more day. 

The invasion was coming and the Tesseract was calling to him again, Loki could feel it like ants beneath his skin making their way towards his heart, itching and burning, and soon he would have to go. Soon the Chitauri would come, and then Anthony Stark would love him no longer. 

_XXX_  
 **I WILL**  
 _XXX_

When Phil had handed him the file and the data therein Tony could never have guessed that it would have contained what it did. Bruce Banner’s transformation from man to monster, though he had known it had happened he hadn’t known how. Captain America, re-signed up for duty, what a surprise, not. The Black Widow, Tony’s former personal assistant; off of Stark Industries’ payroll and back on SHIELD’s. Barton, one of the few SHIELD agents he could actually tolerate aside from Phil, had apparently been brainwashed and kidnapped. Thor, God of Thunder, sweltering in New Mexico while beating down that giant robot from out of space that Tony had had the vast pleasure of being allowed to take apart and study last year. 

And Loki, his Loki, had fought the battle of PEGASUS. And the walls came tumbling down.2 Pepper left the room and Coulson followed her out, both glancing worriedly back over their shoulder’s as Tony’s heart shattered like glass; like the base he had watched collapsing on the disk, crumbling to ashes. 

Loki had smirked at him in Stuttgart; wearing the same suit he had worn their first night together, wearing the same scarf Tony had later used to tie his hands together over his head. He was leaning back against the steps, knees bending the way they always did just before Loki invited Tony to join him, to pin him down and take him. Steve’s hand on his arm was all that kept him from shooting at Loki again, hands in the air in surrender but Tony hadn’t cared: he had wanted to beat the smirk right off of his handsome face, and his stomach clenched at the thought of his fist meeting skin because he knew he would have regretted it later, even if Loki would have deserved every punch Tony could dole out. So Tony had flown back in silence, first on the quinjet, and then later after retrieving Loki from Thor he flew along-side the jet in his suit, unable to look at his lover. He felt sick at the thought of being trapped with him inside of the jet, trapped with Steve’s pitying glances because Natasha had told him about Loki, about _them_ , on the way over and she had spent the half flight back frowning at him in the rear-view mirror. 

So Tony tried to put it out of his mind, push it back and away like he had done all of his life when things got complicated or hard or awkward. Why think about it, why fix it, when ignorance was bliss? So he barged in on Fury’s meeting, shouting answers and questions around the room, throwing his weight around and smacking Thor on the arm even though the God had told him never to touch him again. He had fucked one God, why shouldn’t he have the right to touch another, Tony thought with a snort of amusement, unconcerned by the hammer hanging from Thor’s waist. Later, once they had all gone their separate ways, and Tony was supposed to be introducing himself to Bruce in the lab, he and Fury remained behind, with Coulson in the background trying his best to seem unconcerned. 

“Give it to me straight, Nicky.” Tony scoffed softly, in light of recent events the words straight amused him. Fury quirked an eyebrow at the smile on Tony’s face, bothered by it, because none of them had anything to smile about right then. “How bad did I fuck up this time?”

Fury stared at him, his one eye narrowed and unblinking, and Tony thought hysterically that maybe the other eye was watching him too from beneath the eye-patch and Fury only wore it to freak people out. He was going to whip it off any second now and cackle while Tony screamed like a girl. But he waited, and Fury made no move to do so, or to speak, and Tony found himself twisting his fingers in front of his stomach, gut clenching with nerves and shame. 

“Well,” he added softly, after the silence had stretched on long enough for even Phil to begin looking uncomfortable, “we did agree that I wasn’t Avengers material, so no loss on your part right?” Tony turned his back on them, set to make his way to his suit and to leave. 

He wanted to leave New York, and the tower where he and Loki had spent some of their nights this past week, where they should have been celebrating the working arc reactor that same day with a bottle of champagne, and instead it had been him and Pepper and one glass untouched because Loki had left him, because he had drove Loki away. He shouldn’t have said I love you. Stark had known it the second it left his mouth that those words would change everything between them, but Loki had said them back and foolishly Tony had allowed himself to hope, but the next morning Loki had been gone. Loki hadn’t been heard from for twelve hours, Tony frantic with worry and regret and desperate for a chance to find Loki and take back the words that had chased him away, until Phil was breaking into his home to tell him the real reason why Loki was gone. Tony wanted to leave New York, run from his memories and his heartbreak and the betrayal that curdled the blood in his veins, but Nick’s voice held him back, chained him to this place, and Tony wanted to know _why_ more than he wanted to run. 

“You might as well go in, Stark. You’ve already managed to get him into your bed; let’s see what you can get out of his mouth.”3

Tony didn’t reply, but his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to defend what he had, defend himself, because Fury made it sound like they had just been fucking, like Tony had sold them out for a roll between the sheets, but it had been more than that, so much more than that, at least to him. But he bit his tongue, and nodded his head in understanding though he didn’t bother to turn back around, and Tony let his feet guide him, jaw clenched to keep the tears at bay, until he was at the containment area. Loki was just behind the door, in the cage Fury had shown them earlier while they waited for a debriefing, and it took Tony five minutes to work up the courage to walk inside. 

He wished he hadn’t. Half of him wished he had been more of a coward, to have refused Fury, to have run away; because what he heard didn’t help him understand and the look on Loki’s face made Tony feel like a fool. He would have been better off not knowing because ignorance _was_ bliss. But he had to try, he had to know if there had even been a little piece of what they had shared that had been real, because that was the way Anthony Stark’s mind worked. Not knowing something would drive him mad. 

_XXX_  
 **MAKE YOU**  
 _XXX_

The door opened with a creak. Loki glanced up, the half-smile that had been playing across his lips at the thought of another one on one with Director Fury slipped off at the sight of Tony standing in the threshold instead. “Ah yes,” Loki murmured, face blank. “So they’ve finally thrown my lover into the mix. That didn’t take long.” And then he laughed, head thrown back just an inch but mouth stretching macabre wide and the sight of that much teeth had Tony wincing. 

Loki only ever smiled so widely when he was angry, but Tony didn’t react again except to start pacing around the outside of the cage. He walked halfway around and turned to walk back. Loki watched him in silence, waiting for Tony to speak, to question or demand, but Stark kept silent, nothing telling on his face and though he stared straight at Loki he couldn’t quite seem to meet Tony’s eyes, like the man was seeing straight through him, sick at the sight of him. 

The God convinced himself then that he had been right, that Tony no longer loved him, and yes realistically people didn’t just fall out of love overnight, but this was different. This had been betrayal and lies and hurt, and when people were hurting they were cruel and unpredictable, and Loki would always chose to hurt rather than be hurt. Later, once the battle had begun, Tony’s anger with Loki would protect him, encourage him to fight back, for even if he stood with his arms outstretched and begged for death Loki would not be able to deliver. 

The Chitauri would though, and any advantage Loki could give, anything positive that could be taken from this mess, needed to be used to Tony’s advantage. The Tesseract had taken him, and Thanos had stolen him, and Loki was terrified of failing both, but the thought of Tony bloody and broken, silenced forever, at his feet scared him more. He had been foolish not to realize it sooner, when there might still have been time to rally the Avengers to his side rather than against him, before the Tesseract had called and there might have been time to defend Loki’s mind and magic from her control. But it was too late now. Far too late, for him and for Tony and for Midgard, but if Tony were to survive long enough to be ruled by him, then he had to hate Loki enough so that if it came down to a choice between the two of them Tony would not hesitate. Loki had to make sure of it. 

“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” Tony asked at last, having grown tired of waiting for an apology that would never come. “Then I’m done here.” He knew Loki enough to know that demanding answers wouldn’t get him answers, demands would only make Loki bristle in anger, like a cat whose tail had been stood on or thrown in water, but he had had to try. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hadn’t at least tried to salvage this, this-whatever-they-had-had, this _thing_ between them that had made him happier than he could ever remember being. All of it had been a lie and wasn’t that pathetic? 

“I’ll tell you the truth if you’d like… Just this once.” Loki glanced at his lover, tried to catch brown eyes with his own blue ones, but like before Tony stared through him, catching his eyes and then darting away quickly. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on the tiny crow’s feet at the corners of Loki’s eyes, visible only because the God was frowning now, and Tony took in every line and pore and curve that they could make out and committed it all to memory, because this would probably be the last time Tony would be this close to Loki without having to fight for his life. 

Loki sighed, leaning back in his seat, carelessly placing his hands in his lap. “They’ll never want you back after this. Your Avengers.” He added the last bit when Tony arched a brow, as if he was unaware of whom Loki was referring to. The human continued to try and look nonchalant, but the God could see the tightening around his mouth and that the hands in his pockets were fisting convulsively. “You’re dirtied and ruined and all they’re doing now is using you. Mark my words.” Loki wanted to take it back immediately, because it wasn’t all true. You couldn’t lie to the God of Lies and certainly not with your body language, and Banner at least had honestly seemed to be pleased by Tony’s presence when Loki had caught a glimpse of them walking together, as he was first being brought through the base. The sight had actually made him jealous, and he had smirked at the monster, hoping to make him feel as uneasy as Loki had been feeling. Barton spoke highly of Tony, whenever the man was brought into their conversations over the past three days, and though they were not friends they were friendly enough and Loki had enjoyed talking with someone who knew what (not all, not as much, but some of the important things) Tony was about. 

Tony glanced at him once more, over his shoulder with one hand on the doorknob. Loki wanted to call him back, but it was too late. The bell had been rung and the words couldn’t be unsaid, and it was much too late in the game to call for a rematch. Tony cared not for him, and Loki owed the man, even something as little as this: motivation. Hate me, Loki thought, hate me enough to stop me. He wanted to say the words, but his eyes were blue and the Tesseract was screaming inside of his head, shoulder to shoulder with the Other, and Loki couldn’t hear himself think. 

Instead, as the door closed shut behind Stark, Loki huffed a small laugh and muttered to himself, “I must have hit a nerve.”

Outside, where several SHIELD agents waited for results, Natasha stood with her arms folded across her chest and her feet four inches apart. She looked calm and dangerous and Tony flinched at the sight of her. He didn’t know what exactly Clint Barton was to her, but whatever he was would be enough for her to rip Loki apart in defence of him. Tony, who had slept with that man – monster, murderer, God, alien, fucking anything but man, not a man, not a lover, not any longer – had loved him and trusted him and had been so terribly fooled by him, had no right to act heartbroken in the face of Natasha’s broken heart. 

“He’s all yours,” Tony whispered as he moved around her. 

He didn’t offer her condolences, because Clint wasn’t dead yet, and he didn’t apologise because what could he say? _Sorry my boyfriend mind raped your maybe-boyfriend, want to get naked and comfort each other?_ Yeah, no; Tony didn’t think that would go over too well. So he kept his eyes down, and kept moving, and Natasha let him leave in silence. Only after Tony was well out of sight did she put her hand to her ear, pressing the little button on the earpiece she wore to turn it on, and murmured, “show time, Sir.”

_XXX_  
 **HURT**  
 _XXX_

Tony didn’t fight him, and Loki was half glad for it. He thought that maybe he could keep Tony then, if the man had come to him so willingly, knowing the truth about him, forgiving perhaps his past transgressions? But the sceptre was touching against the arc reactor and the sound of metal meeting metal was loud in the surprised silence of the room. Tony smiled and postured and suddenly angry Loki threw him across the room. He had raised his hand to Tony a second time, meaning only to try again, to force the Tesseract to take control of his lover, to defeat the magic of the arc reactor so Tony could be his again and they could go back to being happy together, but instead of grabbing and holding, Loki pushed. Tony Stark went out the window, shattering the pane of glass and sending shards falling to earth around his flailing form, like little snowflakes or fairy dust and he the archangel Lucifer cast out of heaven in tears, to fall and fall and fall. 

Tony screamed as he fell, calling for Jarvis to deploy the suit. Loki screamed as Tony fell because _he was falling_ and the coward that he was, he closed his eyes because he couldn’t bear to watch Tony _stop_! 

Tony didn’t die, and they fought again, and later Loki crawled out of the hole the Hulk had made in the floor using his body. The window was shattered and wide open, and Loki leant outside, glancing around with wide, horrified green eyes at the destruction he had wrought. He could see Thor and the Hulk, Captain America, Black Widow and Barton, but there was no sign of Anthony Stark. Until Iron Man was falling again, through space and the closing black hole in the sky, and Loki was screaming once more, magic gathering around him like a second skin, pressed tight to his body and painful, so painful, because he wasn’t going to be fast enough, he wouldn’t get there in time and he was too weak, so useless, pathetic, useless, helpless, and Tony was going to die. Because of him. 

The Hulk caught him. 

Loki’s legs gave out, shaking even as he fell to his knees, hands on the ground in front of him as he fought to remember how to breathe normally. When he was calm, and his heart had stopped racing, he glanced up warily, knowing that they were there. The Avengers surrounded him in a semi-circle, trapped with the bar against his back, and they all looked angry, even Tony who held one hand out in front of him, repulsor charging. 

It was useless and pointless, because he had brought this on himself; he had done nothing to help himself, taken none of the olive branches Anthony had offered him. Though he regretted it now, at the time he had known he would win and his winning would protect Stark from Thanos, and they could have been happy together. They could have ruled the world together. And now here he was, slouched against the bar at their feet, mere mortals for the most part and he a God, brought low and too emotionally drained to keep fighting back. 

There was nothing to fight for. It was over. Everything that he had had was lost, and yet, Loki couldn’t help himself. He needed to know, one way or another, if there was truly no hope for him. That, maybe, after his punishment Anthony might still be there, having waited for him, and would welcome him home with open arms and hungry kisses and nails digging into his thighs as Tony pushed them up and away to fuck him harder. 

Loki swallowed, licking his lips slowly. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Tony’s face, and this time Tony met his gaze, staring back just as intently, “I’ll have that drink now.”

There it was, tiny and barely noticeable, except Loki had known what to look for. Loki had been hoping for it, watching and waiting to see how Stark would react, with either the clenching of the jaw or a twitch of his lips or a repulsor blast to Loki’s face. But he had smiled, tiny and fleeting though it was, his lip had twitched up on one side and Loki felt hope bloom inside of his chest like a flower, unfurling and growing, larger and more beautiful with every passing second. Loki had read everything he needed to know in that one gesture, the smallest of any smile Tony had offered him, but the most important one as well, because there had been forgiveness in that smile, desire burning in his eyes and love, beating fast and furious, inside of Tony’s chest when he glanced Loki up and down and quirked his lips a little. 

Loki got his drink, tuning out Barton’s shouting and Steve’s disapproval. His fingers brushed against Tony’s as the man handed over the glass, his own drink in his other hand, and Loki waited until he thought no one was looking to press his fingers hard against Tony’s own, intimate and dangerous, almost holding hands like this in front of Loki’s new enemies and Tony’s new friends. When Tony let the pad of his thumb rub twice against Loki’s hand when he drew away, the jolt of lust like a static shock shooting up his spine from the contact, it made the risk worth it. 

Thor watched them, both lost in each other too much to realise they had an audience. Natasha and Clint had gone outside to contact SHIELD. Bruce was shaking in the corner of the room, half-Hulk but half-not, waiting for the anger to ebb completely. Steve had his back turned on them all, having known about Loki and Tony’s relationship from Natasha and feeling awkward and shy, intruding on their reunion, though he couldn’t leave Tony or Thor alone with the criminal because both of them were emotionally compromised. Neither could be trusted with Loki alone. Especially not both of them together, so Steve stayed, though he resolved not to look or listen or repeat anything private that might accidentally slip passed the fingers he jammed into his ears. 

But Thor watched them unblinking. 

When they had returned to Asgard, Thor stopped Loki outside of their father’s throne room. Blue eyes glanced his younger brother up and down, narrowed at first, before his face relaxed, and a smile not unlike the sun in warmth lit up his face. “You love him!” Thor suddenly exclaimed, having had some idea back on Midgard after his brother had shared drinks with the mortal he had defenestrated, but now, watching Loki pine and glance back over his shoulder repeatedly, as if searching for something – someone – missing, Thor was certain. “You love him, do you not?”

Loki could not answer, but he nodded once, eyes narrowed but unhesitant. Thor took that knowledge and twisted it before the All-Father, using it to Loki’s benefit, defending his brother as his brother could not defend himself while gagged. If Jane could make Thor a better person, then Anthony Stark had certainly done that and more for Loki, Thor claimed, for his brother loved and mourned and regretted as he had barely done when punished before. Loki did not deny, nor struggle, remaining silent and tense as Thor spoke of things he could never understand, because he and Tony were not Thor and Jane. They were _Loki and Tony_ , and they understood one another, loved and respected one another, but knew each other’s character enough to know not to trust completely because they were too alike, different sides of the same coin, and they had both been known to hurt they ones they loved. And yet, Tony trusted him enough to be betrayed by him, and Loki trusted Tony enough to hope he might wait for his return. 

Not many in the court believed Thor’s words to be true. Many claimed Loki had somehow tricked him again. Other claimed the mortal had been under the Tesseract’s thrall, his love false, his body unwilling, and Loki had hissed at them from behind his gag, disgusted at the very thought of forcing himself on Anthony. Despite cynicism from many others, the All-Father nonetheless took Thor’s words into consideration. The sentence was lighter than any had ever hoped to dream of, and six months from his defeat, Loki was brought back to Midgard by Thor and placed into the Avengers’ keeping until he had made amends for his invasion of their planet. Thor ushered Loki into Stark Tower (Avengers Tower now, apparently, as the name on the outside of the building proclaimed, but it would always be Stark’s first and foremost). Against all of his expectations, despite the sliver of hope that he hadn’t quite managed to extinguish after six months in Asgard’s dungeon, Tony Stark was waiting for him with his arms wide open and a glass of bourbon held in each hand. 

“To commemorate the night we met. Remember?” Tony asked, handing over one glass with a warm smile. 

Loki took it. Then Loki took Tony’s mouth in a kiss, lips pressed hard against Tony’s own, both closed, but both breathing hard through their noses despite the chasteness. Their cheeks were wet when they pulled away, and the drinks were left abandoned on the coffee table as Anthony led the way to his bedroom. 

“I remember,” Loki whispered later, thinking instead of the night he had heard ‘I love you’ for the first time from this man; for the only time. He watched Tony, lying side by side and satisfied, and he waited, heart like an animal in his chest, trying to claw its way free with every furious beat. 

“I love you too,” Tony whispered, knowing what Loki wanted to hear and understanding what Loki hadn’t said. When Loki sobbed at the words, Tony just pulled him closer, cradled between his arms against his chest, and they held each other, ignoring the world outside and what Tony’s friends would think of this, because they were together and they were happy and so what if Loki was a supervillian, or a murderer and the Avengers’ great enemy?

He had been Tony Stark’s first. And he would be again. 

**The End**

1 – Tumblr thing: I couldn’t resist sorry. Perhaps one of you would like to show Tony to a real Italian restaurant?  
2 – Jericho reference.  
3 – Taken from the gif set referenced at the start of the story. 

* * * 

Thank you again to everyone who read. I’ll hopefully see you or hear from you the next time I manage to crank something out :P


End file.
